Wishing
by Katrina
Summary: Marguerite learns that sometimes you should be careful what you wish for... Finally CHAPTER 6 is now up!
1. Chapter 1

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DISCLAIMER: The Lost World and it's character's are the property of Coote/Hayes Productions and the wonderful writer, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. All other character's and this story are mine.

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AUTHOR: Kate.

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SYNOPSIS: Marguerite learns that sometimes you must be careful what you wish for…

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WISHING

Marguerite Krux stared up at the sunlight filtering through the trees and blinked a couple of times in surprise. Winded; she couldn't move for a second as she tried to regain her breath. At least she'd fallen on something soft, warm and, she sniffed the air delicately…very smelly, she recognised, screwing up her nose in disgust.

"Oh my God! Marguerite, are you alright? I'm so sorry," exclaimed the deeply concerned voice of someone who dropped to their knee's by her side. Into view came the contrite face of Lord John Roxton, hunter and love of her life. "Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt me? You flipped me over your shoulder, of course you hurt me!" she moaned angrily as she gingerly struggled up into a seated position. He reached out to try and help her up but she angrily slapped his hand away. "I can manage," she told him curtly.

Roxton stood up and backed away a few steps, feeling relief flood through him. He would never have forgiven himself if he'd caused her any harm. 

It had been a pure reflex to grab the hand that had touched him on the shoulder and pull whatever it was into view. Too late, he'd heard the shout of warning from young journalist, Ned Malone and the surprised scream of Marguerite.

Now that the initial shock had passed, he quickly realised that his instinctive reaction had hurt nothing more than her pride and his usual outward veneer of barely restrained patience where Marguerite was concerned, automatically resurfaced…along with a healthy temper of his own.

"Well, perhaps next time you won't creep up on a man when he's out hunting," he ground out hardily.

The brunette bristled at his abrasive tone. "I wasn't creeping up on you. You just weren't paying attention," she retorted, shaking her head slightly to clear a sudden dizzy spell caused by the rank odour engulfing her.

Roxton opened his mouth to deliver a terse reply but, as he stared down at the heiress, he suddenly took in her predicament for the first time and couldn't help the surge of laughter that threatened to overcome him. Oh, he was going to pay for this, but it would be worth it just to see her reaction which he knew wouldn't be long in coming. 

He was right.

"What the hell _is_ this stuff?" Marguerite suddenly asked shrilly as she looked down at the dark mass she was surrounded by. A look of sheer horror crossed her features and she let out a small cry of distaste as recognition hit. She'd landed in a pile of fresh dino dung!

"No! Ugh!" she exclaimed, scrambling to her feet. Taking a couple of steps away from the still warm excrement, she frantically shook her hands back and forth in an effort to fling off as much of the mess as possible.

The sound of laughter brought her head up with a snap and she glared wrathfully at the three people standing nearby. 

The look of such touching concern that had marred Roxton's features just moments before was no longer evident, having been replaced by one of barely concealed amusement. 

Just behind him stood, Malone, his head was bent forward so she couldn't see his face but the shaking of his shoulders told her, he too, was laughing.

Her eyes moved to the right to focus on the blonde, plateau dweller, Veronica Layton and her rage was further incensed. The loincloth clad woman grinned unabashedly back at her, not even attempting to hide her delight at the brunette's misfortune.

Her attention was drawn back to Roxton as he suddenly commented dryly, "You know back home, that would be considered lucky."

At his comparison to the old superstition that treading in dog muck was supposed to bring good fortune, Marguerite saw red. "Well, I'm glad you find this so amusing," she said sarcastically, as she began to move towards him. "Maybe it won't be so funny if I _share_ some of my luck with _you_, Lord Roxton."

He eyed her warily as she came to a stop in front of him, but he stood his ground. "Uh, no thank you, Marguerite," he replied cordially, the smell radiating from her causing him to cough slightly. He pulled a face and put his hand up to his nose in an effort to block out the odour. "I prefer my cologne a little less obvious."

Seeing the fury that lit the brunette's eyes at the hunter's goading, Veronica decided to step in before it turned into one of their full-blown rows. Moving quickly, she neatly stepped between them, pushing Roxton firmly out of the way.

"Marguerite, you really need to go and wash that off as soon as possible. If it dries, the smell will stay with you for weeks." She grimaced slightly. "Trust me, I know."

The brunette stared at the blonde, aghast. Involuntarily, she felt her right hand clench at her side as she mentally warred between sound reason and what she most wanted to do…namely wipe her dirty hand right across Roxton's face taking his smug smile with it.

As Veronica wisely guessed when she told her about the smell - reason won. She knew Marguerite well enough by now that she wouldn't want to go around reeking of dung for weeks on end.

Marguerite cast one last baleful glare in Roxton's direction then, with a grim, "I'll get you back for this," she abruptly turned around and strode quickly along the path that led towards the group's usual 'bathing' pond.

"Whew! I hope she gets there quick enough," Malone remarked as he waved his hand in front of his face. "Could be nasty for the rest of us if she brings that stench back to the treehouse."

"Yeah, the same thing happened to Assai once," Veronica recalled with a grin. "She stank the whole village out for six weeks. The only good thing to come out of it was that they didn't suffer one attack from any other tribes."

The two men grinned back at her then Roxton looked over at the path Marguerite had taken. "We'd better get after her. She'll need someone to stand guard while she bathes." The other's nodded and followed his lead along the track. 

END PART 1


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Roxton, Malone and Veronica sauntered along the track chatting about Challenger's latest mishap.

"…and then it caught alight and a spark landed in his hair. It was a good job, Veronica was there to put him out," Malone concluded with an admiring grin directed at the blonde. At her answering smile, he added earnestly, "I don't know what we'd do without you." 

"Thank you, Ned," she replied, positively glowing under his praise. 

Seeing the way they looked at each other, Roxton decided to move ahead and give them some privacy…well, as much privacy as the plateau would allow anyway. He knew too well how precious a few moments alone with the one you love could be having been in that position himself on more than one occasion.

That thought brought Marguerite firmly to mind again and he looked up hoping to finally have her in his sight. She wasn't.

Sighing in frustration, he quickened his pace. "I'm going to catch Marguerite up," he announced as he began to leave the others behind. "You two might as well go back to the treehouse. There's no use us all being subjected to her bad mood."

Ignoring Malone's amused yell of, "Remember to keep up-wind of her," he strode on cursing himself for letting her get too far ahead.

*****************************

Deep inside a cave behind a waterfall, a sprite materialised taking the form of a tall man with startling blue eyes and black hair that fell to his shoulders. His lean face sported a full moustache and a beard trimmed back to follow the line of his strong jaw. Wearing forest green trousers and matching velvet jacket, he wouldn't have looked out of place in the times of Robin Hood. 

Walking through a corridor, he rested his hand on the hilt of the sword on his right side and came to a large wooden door that had a man standing guard. Dressed in a scarlet version of the sprite's own clothes and also carrying a sword, the guard looked at him then moved aside and opened the door for him to go through. With a nod of acknowledgement, the sprite entered the large room on the other side.

Ignoring the four more scarlet clad guards, he headed for the stone steps at the furthest end of the room. At the top of the steps stood an ancient, ornate throne that had a marble font filled with water to its right side . Upon the throne sat a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair and she was flanked by a guard on either side. 

"Alban, it is good you have come," the woman greeted with a smile.

The man quickly walked towards her, his worried look causing her smile to fade. Just before the steps, he stopped then went down on one knee and bowed his head respectfully. "My Queen, I'm afraid I have bad news to impart," he said in a regretful tone. "The crystal of Quethiock is missing."

The Queen stared at her subject in shock for few moments, letting the news sink in. "Go on," she prompted in a calm voice.

"I'd rather speak with you alone," he admitted quietly, looking pointedly at her guards.

She gestured for the men to leave and when they were alone she got up and walked over to Alban who quickly got to his feet. "Well?" she prompted anxiously.

"It was Reversby, your Majesty," he said with a frown. 

"My uncle?" she asked in surprise then abruptly turned away, shaking her head. "I don't believe it. He wouldn't do something like this."

"I caught him red-handed," Alban told her flatly. 

She looked back at him and drew in a sharp breath at the sorrow in his eyes. "He's dead isn't he?" she asked sadly.

"I had no choice," the man replied gently.

Valiantly holding back her tears, she held her head high and nodded. "I know." She turned away again then began to pace. "So if you killed him, why haven't you got the crystal?"

Alban grimaced. "He managed to transport it elsewhere before I had the chance to take it."

"Then it could be anywhere," she gasped in distress as she came to a halt.

The sprite shook his head. "No, his powers were…weak at the time. He wouldn't have been able to magic it far. I believe I shall be able to find the crystal in the land beyond the falling water. I will leave within the half hour."

From his words, the Queen realised that her uncle had transported the crystal just as he was about to die. Sadness at his death and betrayal filled her once more but these were soon overridden when the rest of Alban's words filtered into her brain. "The land beyond the falling water?" she suddenly repeated incredulously. She swiftly moved over to him and placed a hand on his arm. "You can't go…it's too dangerous," she urged in concern.

Alban looked down at her hand and covered it with his own. "I must, your Majesty," he replied softly. "If the crystal falls into the hands of mortals who knows what havoc they could wreak and besides that, how would it look if the Protector of the crystal sent someone else to do his work?"

Knowing he was right, she gave him a weak smile and nodded as she removed her hand from his arm. "Of course. I must remember protocol," she said with a touch of bitterness.

As he turned to go, she called his name causing him to pause and look back at her. "Now you've decided to do this, you know that I can't be seen to make exceptions. As Protector, if you don't come back with the crystal I shall have to act accordingly," she warned with a pained expression. 

The sprite swallowed hard then nodded. "I understand."

She nodded back, then added softly, "I wish you good luck and best speed, my love."

He gave her a small smile, then took her hand and raised it to his lips in a lover's salute. "I'll be back soon…_with_ the crystal," he vowed then disappeared into thin air, leaving the very concerned Queen to slowly walk back to her throne.

***********************

Veronica and Malone sauntered along the path towards the treehouse in silence. Every now and then, the journalist would dart a furtive, longing glance at his beautiful companion and open his mouth as if the speak only to sigh and look ahead again when nothing was forthcoming.

'Well, think of something to say to her, dammit!' he mentally raged at himself in frustration, after yet another such stolen glance. 'You're almost at the treehouse for heaven's sake.'

Racking his brains for a subject that wouldn't sound forced, he chanced another glance but this time, Veronica also turned her head and pinned him with her gaze. "Is something wrong?" she asked with a faintly puzzled expression.

"Oh…uh…no! No. Of course not," he stammered awkwardly at being caught out.

"Are you sure?" she pressed, a hand going up to touch her cheek self-consciously. "Do I have something on my face?"

Malone meant to negate her fear with a simple shake of his head, but instead he found himself nodding. "Uh…yeah, actually, you, uh…have a little bit of dirt…" he gestured to her left cheek, "…just there."

Veronica rubbed her face and looked at him expectantly. "Has it gone?"

Ned stared at her then shook his head. "Here, let me," he offered, coming to a halt. Veronica stood still and waited patiently as the journalist slowly raised his hand and placed it against her cheek then very gently ran his thumb back and forth over her skin. 

Gradually, his thumb ceased moving but his hand remained where it was as they stared deep into each other's eyes. Just as Malone gathered up his courage to lean forward and kiss her, something very hard fell from the sky and hit him squarely on the top of the head.

"Ow! Damn!" he cried, staggering back a couple of steps and holding his head. "What the heck was that?"

Veronica looked around in confusion. "I don't know." Avidly searching the surrounding ground, she suddenly let out a small cry and ran over to a large bush. She bent down then straightened and held aloft a large oval-shaped jewel of shimmering green. "I think I've found the culprit," she commented with a lift of an eyebrow.

"It looks like an emerald," the reporter said, gingerly rubbing his head. "And looking at the size of it, no wonder it hurt."

Veronica looked heavenwards with a frown. "I wonder how it came to fall from the sky."

"Beats me," he shrugged, taking it from her hand to examine it more closely. "Maybe a bird picked it up then dropped it."

"Maybe, maybe not," the huntress murmured thoughtfully. She was certain she'd seen that particular shaped gem somewhere before but she couldn't quite remember where. Then it hit her. "Let's get back to the treehouse," she urged. "That stone looks very familiar. I'm sure it's in one of my parents journals."

Before Ned could say anything, Veronica turned and walked hurriedly away. Realising that any chance of continuing their private moment had gone, he stuffed the jewel in his pocket and started after her, silently cursing the way fate so cruelly dealt its cards. 

END CHAPTER 2


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for all the great feedback, I really appreciate it J 

CHAPTER 3

Marguerite marched determinedly along the path, all the while muttering to herself under her breath. "Maybe I could pour some of that jam we got from the Zanga village into his hat," she murmured relishing the imaginary picture she had of the thick red jelly running down Roxton's face after he'd put it on. "Or maybe in his boots." A malicious smile spread across her features. "Maybe both."

So lost was she in her daydream that she jumped when she heard the sudden sound of a twig snapping loudly a little way behind her. Turning around, she swiftly drew her pistol and took aim in readiness.

"Careful now, Marguerite, it's only me," Roxton announced, holding up his hands as he came to an abrupt halt on the pathway. 

The heiress glared at him and tutted in annoyance. The violence with which she shoved her pistol back into its holster told the hunter, much clearer than words, that she was far from happy to see him and that her anger hadn't abated at all.

Not that he could really blame her, he allowed as she silently turned away from him and stalked off. It was his rash actions that had resulted in this unfortunate outcome and, judging by the silent treatment he was now being subjected to, he was going to have a lot of making up to do over the next few hours. He only hoped his scant supply of patience would last out long enough. 

As he started to follow her rapid progress down the track, a sudden breeze wafted over to him carrying the smell of the dung with it, causing the hunter to suffer a coughing fit.

Marguerite threw him an unsympathetic look over her shoulder. "Serves you right," she muttered coldly, before looking ahead again and speeding up.

"Your compassion overwhelms me," he managed to comment as his coughs subsided. "And will you please slow down a little until I catch my breath?"

"No-one _asked_ you to follow me," she groused, still marching ahead.

"Come now, Marguerite, you know that I'd follow you to the very ends of the earth," he retorted sarcastically.

"Where hopefully you'll fall right off," she parried in a bright voice, alluding to the fact that people once thought the world was flat.

"Being a gentleman, I'd have to say ladies first," the hunter countered, his pleasant tone as obviously false as hers.

With a cry of frustration, Marguerite suddenly whirled around to face him. Hands on hips, she demanded, "Do you _always_ have to have the last word?"

Roxton frowned and pursed his lips as though in deep concentration. "No," he replied finally with a mocking smile. Closing the distance between them, he added, "Unless I'm with you of course, where I must confess I do find the challenge extremely…" He paused and looked her up and down meaningfully before raising an eyebrow and murmuring, "…stimulating." 

Momentarily taken aback at his sudden change of tact, Marguerite could only stare at him in open-mouthed surprise, as his grin widened and he moved past her down the path. A little way along he stopped and turned around to look at her. "Chop, chop, Marguerite," he instructed brightly. "You'll never make it to the pond in time if you keep dawdling like this." With a wink, he then turned back and continued along the path, whistling.

"Of all the arrogant, insufferable men…" she muttered petulantly to herself as she reluctantly set off after him. "I'll chop, chop _you_ in a minute."

They walked on until they found themselves entering the clearing that was dominated by the reasonable sized water hole. Although she wasn't going to strip totally, she still looked pointedly at Roxton and smirked at the way he shook his head then slowly turned his back. 

She undressed quickly then, still in her underwear, she waded out to the middle of the pond where she wet her clothes and vigorously rubbed them clean. Next, she briefly dipped under the surface ensuring that her hair got completely wet, then pushed her tresses over one shoulder and carefully began the awful job of picking out the mess.

Roxton stared aimlessly into the jungle and listened to the sounds of the soft splashing Marguerite made while bathing. To combat his boredom, he allowed a mental picture to form in his head of her sensuously running her hands over her soft skin as she cleaned herself. He expelled a deep shuddering breath at the sharp sting of desire that ripped through him and swallowed hard.

Everything within him begged to turn and look to see if his fantasies were anywhere near as good as the real thing, but he determinedly ignored temptation knowing it wasn't the decent thing to do. "It's times like these I really hate being a gentleman," he murmured morosely as he shifted his weight uncomfortably. With a sigh, he tried to convince himself that she couldn't possibly be _much_ longer and resigned himself to more pleasant, if somewhat painful, daydreaming.

Ten minutes later, clean and in a much more amiable mood, Marguerite waded back to the bank and glanced at the hunter to check that he was still looking away. Seeing that he was, she gave a contented sigh and allowed herself the luxury of letting her eyes roam over his tall, lean figure, lingering appreciatively on his taut backside. She positively _envied_ those trousers at times, she acknowledged with a wry smile.

Tearing her gaze away, she wrung out her blouse and skirt then quickly slipped them back on, grimacing at the dampness and horribly wrinkled state of her attire. "OK, ready," she announced briskly.

Determined not to get drawn into another verbal battle with the heiress, Roxton turned and took in her rumpled appearance with a grin. "Feel better?" he asked lightly as he walked over. At her nod, he reached out and gently brushed some of her hair over her shoulder, his fingertips trailing lightly against her neck. 

At his gentle touch, her head instinctively tilted back in invitation as he leaned in and inhaled deeply. "You certainly smell better," he murmured in a soft teasing tone, his grin widening.

As he drew back, Marguerite turned her head towards him, bringing their faces to within mere inches of each other. His gaze dropped to her lips that were tantalisingly close to his and he slowly bent his head, only to be brought up short by her taunting voice.

"How I wish I could return the compliment, Lord Roxton, _but_…after a morning's undoubtedly vigorous hunt _and_ the added exertion of _hoisting_ me over your shoulder, well…" She let the sentence hang in the air delighting in the indignant expression that clouded his face as her insinuation sunk in.

Eyes narrowed, he took a step back and cast an unhappy glance down at himself before sputtering angrily, "Just what the hell are you implying, Marguerite?"

"Nothing," she replied innocently, then glanced over at the water. "But since you're already here…"

"I showered this morning, thank you very much," he forced out between gritted teeth. The cheek of the woman casting aspersions on him after he'd put up with her reeking like, what he could only describe as, a walking sewer.

"Fine, whatever you say," she murmured dismissively and turned away from him. "I'm going back to the treehouse."

He watched her walk away for a moment then looked down at himself again in concern and gave a couple of cursory sniffs. Realising what he was doing, his worried look changed to a frown and he shook his head. "Damn infuriating woman," he muttered before setting off after her down the path.

********************** 

Professor George Challenger crouched down and stared in amazement at the brightly coloured insect that was marching along the rock in front of him. "Amazing," he breathed, quickly unscrewing the top off of a jar and laying the glass container down in front of the unsuspecting bug. "Definitely an arachnid of some sort but not anything I've ever seen before."

As the spider walked on, Challenger strategically placed the lid behind it then, with one swift flick, the bug was safely ensconced within the jar and the lid was firmly screwed back on.

He held the container up and grinned delightedly as he studied the creature carefully. "You will make a most interesting addition to my collection."

Suddenly, the sounds of the jungle ceased around him and silence fell. His smile faded and he scoured the foliage around him as he slowly placed the jar on the rock and picked up his rifle. 

Cautiously standing, he listened for any signs of the predator he was certain was nearby. The tell tale chatter of one of the most dangerous dinosaurs on the plateau had him draw in a sharp breath and raise his rifle in readiness. "Raptors," he muttered worriedly.

The foliage to his left moved and he turned to see the ferocious beast emerge with a loud roar. He fired immediately and the dinosaur let out a pained howl as it fell to the ground.

Knowing there would be more to follow, he gasped in surprise as a Raptor appeared out of the dense jungle either side of him. "Oh, this is very bad," he groaned as he anxiously looked from one beast to the other, trying to gauge which one would strike first.

A roar from the Raptor on his right, had him swing his gun around and take aim. He heard the roar of the second dinosaur behind him and knew that even if he killed one, the other would undoubtedly reach him before he could turn around and bring his gun to bear again.

Grimly, he pulled the trigger, felling the beast in front of him and then tensed as he felt the hot breath of the other Raptor hit the back of his neck. Not one to go without a fight, Challenger turned and tried to bring his rifle up to shoot. The dinosaur lunged almost immediately and knocked him over. As he fell to the ground, the rifle slipped from his hand and slid across the jungle floor out of reach.

Looking up from beneath his hat, he saw the beast preparing for the kill and closed his eyes. So this was how it was going to end. Somehow he'd always thought he'd go out with a bang, not as a snack for an overgrown lizard. "I'm sorry, Jessie," he murmured, waiting for the pain.

Just then, he heard a shout and realised that the Raptor was moving away from him. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw a young man dressed in green standing nearby holding a sword. "Stay where you are," the stranger instructed, never taking his eyes from the dinosaur.

Challenger nodded and stared in amazement as the stranger fearlessly approached the dinosaur. The Raptor eyed the man for a moment then suddenly jumped towards him, pinning him to the ground. 

The professor let out a cry of alarm and looked around for his rifle. Spying it nearby he scrambled over on his hands and knees then picked it up and turned. Before he could fire off a shot however, the stranger brought up his sword and in one swift motion he plunged it deep into the beast's heart. With an agonised howl, the Raptor dropped to the ground by his side already dead before it even hit the earth.

Challenger hurriedly got to his feet and ran over to the man. "Well done, Sir," he said as he dropped to his knees and began checking over the mans wounds. "I didn't think I was going to get out of that one alive and wouldn't have done save your timely arrival. Thank you."

"You're very welcome," the stranger gasped as he struggled to sit up.

"I don't think you should move until I examine the extent of your injuries," the professor told him, grabbing his arms and easing the man back down on the ground.

The stranger nodded and let Challenger perform a rapid examination. "Well?" he asked when the professor sat back.

"You're lucky. The scratches on your chest are only superficial but the one on your arm is going to need stitches," he told him with a frown. "I think you'd better come back to the treehouse with me. We'll get you fixed up in no time."

"We?" the man queried as Challenger helped him to stand.

"My friends," the professor answered by way of explanation as he bent to retrieve his rifle.

The man nodded then turned away and took a couple of steps over to the fallen Raptor. Grasping the handle of his sword, he placed his foot on the beast and with one sharp tug, he yanked the blade free. After wiping the sword on the grass to get rid of the blood, he sheathed it and turned back to the professor. 

Challenger picked up his jar and after checking that the spider was still there, he placed it carefully into his pack. Looking over at the other man, he smiled then walked over to him and held out his hand. "George Challenger," he introduced himself.

"Alban," the man replied, taking his proffered hand and shaking it firmly.

"Well, Alban, let's get going shall we?" Challenger suggested then headed off towards his home with Alban in tow.

*******************

"Had any luck yet?" Malone asked as Veronica approached the table he was sitting at. 

"No," she replied with a shake of her head. Sitting down next to him, she placed two of her parents journals on the table, one in front of each of them. "These are the last two. It'll be quicker if we both look."

The journalist nodded then opened his book and began reading. About halfway through, he paused and stretched then picked up the gem that lay on the table in front of them. "Are you sure you've seen this before somewhere?" he asked, holding it up to the light.

"Positive," she answered confidently, still flicking through her journal.

"Certainly is unusual," Malone commented to himself, seemingly unable to look away.

The sound of the elevator cranking into life startled the man and the emerald slipped from his fingers. Catching the edge of the table, the angle caused the stone to be propelled across the room and drop to the floor where it bounced a couple of times before settling at the bottom of the steps leading up to the elevator.

Before Malone could get out of his chair and retrieve the gem, a squabbling Roxton and Marguerite exited and started down the stairs. It wasn't long before the heiress spied the jewel glinting at her feet and she gasped in awe as she broke off her argument with the hunter to quickly bend down and pick the stone up. "Oh my God," she breathed as she held the emerald between her thumb and forefinger. "This is exquisite."

Roxton watched the way her face lit up as she examined the stone and felt a fleeting stab of jealousy. Such unabashed happiness was rare on her face. Why couldn't she look at him like that more? It suddenly struck him how idiotic he was being and he hurriedly turned and walked away to put his rifle back in the rack.

Oblivious to the hunter leaving her side, Marguerite continued to stare at the gem in her hand in wonder. "It's flawless. Where did you get this?"

Malone glanced over at Veronica who grimaced slightly then shrugged her shoulders in resignation.

"We found it," the journalist finally replied. He got up and went over to the brunette, holding out his hand. "Can I have it back please?"

"Found it where?" she asked, ignoring his request and moving past him towards the balcony.

"Under a bush on the trail," Malone told her, following her out onto the deck.

"It was just laying there?" she queried incredulously as she held it up to allow the sunlight to filter through.

"Well, no, it kind of dropped out of nowhere," he admitted, rubbing his still tender head. "Hurt like hell." Marguerite made a vaguely sympathetic sound but Malone realised her sole focus was on the jewel she held. Moving to stand beside her at the railing, he added, "Veronica thinks she's seen the stone in one of her parents journals. We were just checking when you came back."

"Well, don't let me stop you," she said airily. 

Malone sighed in resignation and went back to sit down next to Veronica again. "Looks like that's the last we'll see of that," he murmured to his companion unhappily.

"That might not be such a bad thing," she returned, avidly reading the page in front of her. 

"You found something?" Ned asked eagerly, leaning in to look over her shoulder.

"I think so," the huntress answered absently, still scanning the journal.

***********************

Having stowed his hat in his bedroom and quickly changing his shirt, Roxton walked back up the stairs to the main room of the treehouse and over to the rest of his friends. Veronica and Malone were giving their rapt attention to a book, so when he spied Marguerite on the balcony, he went out to join her.

"Are you still staring at that bauble?" he asked incredulously. "You'll be seeing nothing but green spots in front of your eyes if you're not careful."

"Fine by me," she retorted, flicking him an annoyed glance over her shoulder. "There's nothing else of interest to look at around here anyway."

The hunter's jaw tightened in irritation. "Maybe not, but just remember that it's not yours to keep. Veronica and Malone found it."

"No they didn't, _it_ found _them_," she replied.

"What do you mean?" he queried in a puzzled tone.

Annoyed at his continuing intrusion, Marguerite sighed and quickly told him what the young reporter had said in the hopes that he'd go and speak to Ned thus leaving her alone with the stone.

Roxton frowned at the tale and looked at the gem warily. "I think we should put it right back where they found it."

"What?!" the heiress exclaimed, staring at him as if he were mad. "Not on your life…"

"Marguerite, jewels that perfect don't just fall from the sky without good reason," he cut in reasonably. "There's something more to this; something we probably shouldn't get ourselves involved with."

"Oh, you just worry too much, Roxton," she dismissed lightly. 

"Usually with good reason in this place," he retorted. "Haven't you learned anything from the time we've been here?"

"Yes," she snapped. "I have. I've learned that you're determined to see me get off this plateau empty handed."

"Oh, for once, Marguerite, I just wish you'd forget about your bloody jewels and listen to me when I'm trying to talk some sense into you," he raged, losing his temper. 

"Oh really," she exclaimed, taking a step towards him. "Do you want to know what I wish?" Before he could say anything, she continued, "I wish I was as far away from you as I could possibly be, happily gathering stones like this to my hearts content without ever having to listen to one more word of your tedious lectures on making me a better person."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her surroundings shifted sharply and changed from the brightness of the treehouse balcony to the interior of a dimly lit cave. Eyes wide, she looked around herself in shock and saw that people dressed in rags were kneeling nearby, digging away with pickaxes at the cave walls.

Looking down at herself, she realised that, she too, was dressed in rags and a feeling of utter dread overcame her as fear began to claw its way up her chest. "Roxton," she whispered nervously. "Where are you?" 

END CHAPTER 3


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

"Marguerite, don't say another word!" cried Veronica as she rushed onto the balcony with Malone close behind. They'd just found the entry in the journal about the emerald and had been going out to warn the other couple of its supposed magical qualities when they'd overheard Roxton and Marguerite's argument.

The startled hunter glanced at them and then looked back at irate heiress only to find she was nowhere to be seen. "What the hell…?" he gasped, then realising she wasn't anywhere on the balcony, he cast a concerned look over the rail to the jungle floor below. "Marguerite!" he called, the first seed of dread starting to sprout in his chest. "Marguerite!"

"She's gone, Roxton," Veronica told him as she moved over to his side.

"Gone? What do you mean she's gone?" the hunter demanded in confusion. "She can't have, she was standing right in front on me a few seconds ago!"

"It's the emerald," Malone told him as he joined his friends and pushed the open journal into Roxton's hand. "Look, it supposedly has the power to grant wishes."

Roxton looked down at the book in his hand and recognised the drawing of the gem immediately. Glancing over the narrative on the page next to it, he discovered that what the Layton's had written down was only what they'd heard from rumours and legends. 

Grimly, he snapped the book shut and gave it back to the reporter. "Obviously there's no _suppose_ about it, Malone," he stated as he brushed past his friends and stalked into the treehouse.

The young couple followed him in and watched as he grabbed his two pearl handled Webley pistols and checked them over.

"What are you doing?" Veronica asked.

"What does it look like?" he countered, shoving the guns back in their holsters. "I'm going to look for her." He slipped his arms through the gun harness so the pistols now sat at each side of his chest and did up the buckle across his stomach. He then grabbed his hat and rammed it determinedly on his head before retrieving his rifle from the its place in the rack.

"But she could be anywhere," Veronica pointed out with a frown. "You don't even know where to start looking."

"She wanted gems," Roxton replied walking over to the elevator. "So, I'm going to try those nearby caves where she picked up some good pieces not so long ago."

"She also said she wanted to be far away from here, Roxton," Malone reminded him quietly, steadfastly ignoring the look of hurt that flashed over the older man's face. "She might not even be on the plateau anymore."

The hunter halted by the elevator and briefly shut his eyes trying to keep his unhappy feelings under control. "Do you think I haven't already thought about that, Malone?" he demanded harshly as he turned and glared at the reporter. "But until I know for certain she's not still here, I'll keep looking. For as long as it takes!"

He turned away from the young couple intending to step into the elevator but was prevented from doing so when the mechanism whirred into life sending the car downwards. Hoping against hope that it might be the heiress returning, he was dismayed to see the familiar form of his scientist friend come into view. "Oh, Challenger, it's you," he said in disappointment.

"Roxton," the red-haired man acknowledged distractedly as he alighted then turned back to help a wounded man step off the elevator. "This is Alban," Challenger told them as he took in their curious looks. "He saved me from certain death at the jaws of a raptor with just a _sword_ no less! Unfortunately, he sustained a rather nasty cut to his left arm which I think will need tending right away, if you would, Veronica?"

The woman immediately went over and checked the injury. "Two or three stitches should be enough to fix it," she told Alban with a smile. "I'll get some thread and some salve."

"Thank you," he replied gratefully as she hurried away.

"Malone, Roxton, sit down and I'll tell you what happened," Challenger urged, smiling at the two men.

The journalist did as he was bade but the hunter abruptly shook his head. "Later, Challenger. I have to go and find Marguerite first," he told him with a frown. 

"_Find_ Marguerite?" the scientist queried in surprise. "Whatever do you mean? Is she missing?"

"If you can call disappearing into thin air without a trace 'missing', then yes," Roxton replied tautly.

"What?!"

Malone quickly opened up the journal he still held and flicked the pages over until he found the entry he was looking for. Turning the book half way around, he slid it across the table towards the older man.

"See this?" he asked as he pointed to the drawing of the emerald. "We found it. And everything Veronica's parents wrote about it is true. It can grant wishes."

Challenger picked up the book and rapidly scanned the page then looked over at Roxton. "And you believe this?" he questioned incredulously.

"Yes, I believe it! I was there when it happened, Challenger," he answered curtly. "And now I have to go and find her." With that, he stepped into the elevator and lifted his hand to set the car in motion.

"Wait!"

Roxton paused and looked around to see Alban standing at the top of the stairs. "Yes?" he demanded impatiently when the young man didn't speak right away.

"You will be wasting your time trying to find your friend," Alban warned quietly. "The emerald grants wishes but not in the expected way. Not for mortals."

The hunter's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Not for _mortals_?" he repeated, taking a step back off the elevator and coming to a stop almost nose to nose with the younger man. Pulling out a pistol, he clicked off the safety and pushed it against Alban's chest before curtly demanding, "First you tell us exactly who you are then you explain how the hell you know about that emerald, my friend."

******************

Marguerite took a couple of deep breaths trying to calm the awful fear that was steadily rising with each second. What had just happened and where the hell was she? 

Looking around, she saw that the people diligently picking away at the stone walls didn't even seem to be aware that she was there. 

"Heat-stroke," she muttered, looking around the cavern. "That must be it. I've fainted and I'm having some sort of _really_ weird dream."

"Get back to work!" suddenly yelled a harsh voice followed by the sound of a whip cracking that reverberated around the cave. 

Someone screamed in pain and Marguerite gasped, looking around wildly to see what was happening. As she did so, her foot caught a small rock that was protruding from the earth and she let out a small cry as she fell heavily to the ground. "Damn!" she exclaimed as pain lanced through her right ankle.

As she sat there, a shadow fell over her and she looked up into the face of a very tall, very sweaty, very bald man. His dark blue trousers were covered in such an inordinate amount of stains, the heiress was certain that he hadn't taken them off since the day he first put them on. His chest was bare and his stomach showed the price of good eating by hanging abundantly over the waistband of his trousers.

"Well, well, well, what have you got there?" he asked, his deep rasping voice immediately grating on her nerves. He bent down and grabbed her hand, but instead of dragging her up as she thought he would, he merely ripped the emerald from her grasp. Holding it up with a grin that revealed an incomplete set of rotten teeth, he said, "Not bad."

"Give that back!" she ordered, automatically trying to stand as she reached out to snatch the gem from his grubby fingers. Her ankle gave way before she was more than halfway up and she slumped unceremoniously back down onto her backside, grimacing as another shaft of pain shot up her leg.

The man laughed at her feeble attempt then pointed over at a nearby wall. "Back to work, wench," he commanded as he pocketed the emerald. "And be quick about it or you'll feel the hot sting of my whip." 

Marguerite glared mutinously at her captor then slowly rose to her feet. Even though every part of her wanted to irrevocably maim the man before her, she also recognised that she was in no shape to do anything. Gingerly, she turned away from him and took a step towards the cave wall.

"Move it!" the man snapped and shoved her in the back.

The heiress stumbled on her injured ankle but resolutely stayed on her feet, stifling a pained groan. Throwing him a malevolent glance over her shoulder, she reached the wall at her own pace then eased herself to the ground.

"Here," said the man, dropping a pick-axe at her feet. "Find more like this little gem," he said patting his pocket, "and I'll see about making your stay here a more…" He paused and licked his lips in anticipation as his leering eyes ran over her body before finishing, "enjoyable one."

Marguerite fought down the wave of nausea that threatened to overcome her at his implication and looked away. Picking up the tool, she methodically started the chip away at the stone wall hoping that if she ignored him, he'd leave which, after a few seconds, he did. 

As soon as he was out of sight, she flung down the pick-axe then straightened out her right leg and began rubbing her ankle to help soothe the throbbing. She was pretty certain she hadn't broken it but it was still bad enough to hinder an opportunity of escape if she saw one.

With her usual determination she forced the pain to the back of her mind and focussed completely on trying to figure out how she'd been in the treehouse one minute then in a cave, being forced to mine gems, the next. 

"So much for a dream," she muttered morosely, gasping as her ankle protested again. "More like a bloody nightmare."

END CHAPTER 4


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

"You stopped me from leaving just so you could spin some convoluted tale about a _secret_ land that's hidden somewhere on the plateau and that you're some kind of…of…_fairy_?!" Roxton stormed at the unfortunate sprite. "I should shoot you just for wasting my time!"

"Now, now, John, take it easy," came the calming voice of Challenger as he touched the younger man's arm, staying him where he sat. "We've all seen far to many strange things to just dismiss this out of hand." He shot Alban a suspicious look then added wryly, "Although I must say that I do have _some_ difficulty getting my head around what you've just told us myself."

"So do I," agreed Veronica, looking at him distrustfully. "I've lived here all my life and I've never heard of your people."

"I swear what I've told you is the truth," the man assured them earnestly.

"So how come you got injured?" asked Malone sceptically. "Aren't 'sprites' supposed to be immortal beings?"

"Yes, we are," Alban confirmed. "But the price I pay for losing the crystal of Quethiock and entering your world is mortality. The longer I stay the less chance I have of returning to my own world."

"Isn't that kind of a high price for losing _one_ jewel," the journalist replied doubtfully. "Even one that does grant wishes".

Alban shook his head. "You don't understand, the crystal is but one of four stones that when they are together protect our people and sustain our way of life. Each are guarded by their own Protector. Without the emerald the balance is upset and chaos will reign. I am the Protector of the emerald and I have to find it before it's too late…for me…" he paused and looked directly at Roxton before adding, "…and for your friend."

The hunter stared back at Alban then seemed to reach an internal decision and slowly stood up. "Alright, for now, let's say I believe you. How do we find Marguerite?"

The sprite looked visibly relieved and offered a small smile to the stern man in front of him. "First of all, you must follow me into the forest where I can speak to a friend who will be able to help us."

Roxton gave a curt nod then looked at his fellow companions. "Best get ready, we leave in ten minutes."

***********************

Marguerite dragged her pick-axe down the cave wall in a half-hearted attempt at looking like she was working. At the same time, she surreptitiously kept an eye on what was going on around her, trying to gauge if there was any chance to escape.

She felt as if she'd been in the cave for days but in reality she guessed it could have been no more than a couple of hours. Her ankle had stopped throbbing but having stood up to gingerly test it out, she knew she'd have trouble with it should she get a chance to escape. Not that it would stop her if an opportunity arose, she'd be out of there quicker than Challenger could blow up one of his experiments!

Surprisingly, she'd noted that there didn't seem to be many guards around. Even stranger was the fact that considering there were so many people religiously digging away, all holding pick-axes and spades, no-one seemed to want to make any kind of stand against their captors.

The sound of a whip cracked near her ear and she looked up to see a guard staring menacingly down at her. "Work faster," he barked. "Put some effort into it."

Anger rose inside her and, after a quick glance around to check it was all clear, Marguerite suddenly raised her pick. Before he had a chance to realise what her intentions were, she swung the tool down hard and into the foot of the man before her. As the point dug deep into the guard's flesh, he cried out in pain and crumpled to the ground. 

"Is that _effort_ enough for you?" she sneered as she watched him rolling about the floor holding his bleeding foot.

Not expecting a reply, she bent down and picked up the whip he'd dropped then, hobbled away as quickly as her injured ankle would allow.

************************

Alban came to a halt by a small pond then turned and waited for the explorers to join him.

"This is where you're meeting your friend?" Roxton queried dubiously as he looked around.

"Once I've let her know I'm here, yes," the sprite confirmed.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" the hunter urged, using his rifle to gesture for Alban to hurry up.

The bearded man nodded then proceeded down to the water's edge where he knelt down and then moved his hand across the water in one smooth sweep and began talking quietly to himself. 

The explorers exchanged puzzled looks then, suddenly, a bubbling started in the middle of the pond, drawing their attention and they automatically readied their weapons, facing the source. After a few seconds, the surface broke and out of the disturbed water slowly rose a young woman. Her blonde hair was long, straight and practically shimmering in the sunlight. Her features were elfin-like with a dainty nose and pointed chin, her pale skin highlighted by the rosy hue that touched her cheeks and lips. 

The explorers stared in amazement as the female came fully out of the water with eyes closed and head slightly bent as though in prayer. She wore a long dress of a pale green, wispy, almost transparent material, accompanied by pale green satin slippers. A long dark green velvet cloak completed the stranger's attire and, despite her entrance, the woman appeared completely dry as she hung in the air a few inches above the water level.

Speechless, the group continued to stare as the woman abruptly raised her head and opened her eyes, pinning them with their glowing green depths. The female smiled softly then floated gently towards them and came to a rest on the grass.

Alban stood and walked over to her side before dropping to one knee and bowing his head. "Your Majesty, I would like you to meet my friends," he said as he rose to his feet once more and gestured to each person in turn as he introduced them.

The female regarded them silently for a few seconds before finally speaking, her voice both soothing and melodious. " I am Jodrell, Queen of the Elfreya. I am pleased that you are willing to help, although saddened that you have lost your companion. I had hoped that we would have been able to prevent this situation arising. We must act quickly before I am unable to trace her." 

Although no more than a whisper, her voice seemed to surround the group completely and as they stood staring at her, a feeling of peace and wellbeing came over them as if that now she were there, they had nothing to worry about any longer.

Challenger cleared his throat then stepped forward with a smile. He bowed his head and touched his hat politely before saying, "It is indeed an honour to meet Your Majesty but how do you propose to find Marguerite when she could be anywhere on the plateau?"

Jodrell lifted her arm and held out her hand. In front of four pairs of disbelieving eyes, three large gems appeared in her palm; a ruby, a sapphire and the most faultless diamond they'd ever seen. 

"The stones will guide our way," she replied simply then held her arm higher and closed her eyes. After a few seconds a low hum began to resonate around them and the jewels started to glow, their colours producing a stunning rainbow effect that engulfed her hand in multicoloured orb. As the humming got louder, the mixture of colours changed to an emerald green and the glow spread down her arm to enclose her entire body.

Suddenly the noise stopped and the surrounding glow vanished. As the explorers waited expectantly, Jodrell slowly lowered her arm and they watched the three gems disappear before turning their gazes to her.

"Well? Did you see her? Where is she?" Roxton demanded impatiently then glanced over at Challenger as the scientist suddenly cleared his throat loudly. Catching the older man's warning look, the hunter's eyes widened slightly and he turned back to the Queen added politely, "Uh, Your Highness."

Jodrell turned to look at him and his chest tightened at the sadness that clouded her eyes. 

"She is in a dark place," she told him sorrowfully. "There is danger there. We must hurry before it's too late."

"Which way?" asked Malone giving Roxton a sympathetic look as his friend's head dropped despondently at what Jodrell had said.

"Towards those mountains," she directed, pointing to two peaks that rose side by side in the distance.

"We can't make it there today," Veronica determined.

"I agree," Challenger concurred gazing up at the still light sky. "We should go back to the treehouse and prepare ourselves for the journey then set out early tomorrow morning."

Roxton lifted his head then looked from his companions to Jodrell, who nodded at him, then back again. "I can't wait that long," he told his friends determinedly. "I'll keep going and you can meet us there tomorrow."

He began to walk away but Challenger grabbed his arm. "John, you must think about this," he urged his friend worriedly. 

Roxton appreciated Challengers' concern but his mind was made up. "I haven't got the time, George. Marguerite's alone out there and in danger. I can't sit around, you know that."

"Yes, but…"

"I'll be fine, George," the hunter insisted, cutting off the older man's objections. "Really". Challenger slowly nodded and regretfully relinquished his grip. As he took a step back, Roxton smiled slightly and added, "Although, naturally, I shall miss having all of you along."

Challenger stared at him for a couple of moments before sighing and shaking his head. Smiling wryly, he said, "I daresay we wouldn't hear the end of it if you alone turned up and saved Marguerite. Best not give her cause to grumble." He then glanced over at Malone and Veronica with eyebrows raised. The young couple looked at each other then back at their friends.

"Hey, I don't need to go back to the treehouse, I'm all packed," announced Malone with a shrug of his shoulders.

Veronica nodded. "And after looking at those mountains again, it doesn't seem _that_ far," she conceded with a smile of her own.

Roxton grinned and a wave of affection filled his body as he looked at his friends. "We'd better put our best foot forward then." He turned to Alban and Jodrell and nodded curtly. "After you, Your Highness."

*********************

Marguerite stealthily turned a corner and almost laughed in relief. There, directly ahead of her, she saw a small ray of light. "Not far now," she coaxed herself as she took a deep breath and forced her protesting ankle to move.

Considering it appeared to be an exit, alarm bells started ringing when she observed there were still no guards around. 'Just what was it, that kept these people from walking out?' she wondered with a frown.

She soon found out when she walked out into the sunlight. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the light, she drew in a sharp breath and instinctively stepped back a couple paces until her back hit the hard wall of rock. She closed her eyes momentarily, then opened them and hesitantly leaned forward. "Damn it!" she cursed unhappily as she realised she hadn't imagined the sheer drop that disappeared into a mist so heavy she couldn't make out any land beneath. Glancing up and to each side, her stomach churned as she become conscious of the fact that she was on a small ledge on the side of a mountain that appeared to be so vast she couldn't see an end to it in whatever direction she looked. Now she knew why the exit wasn't guarded. 

With a shake of her head, Marguerite edged back inside the cave and paused to allow herself time to adjust to the overwhelming darkness. She hadn't stood there more than a couple of seconds when she heard a noise and stiffened in shock as a voice she recognised floated out of the blackness.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the lovely, Marguerite. What a marvellous surprise, I was finding it quite dull here but you'll cheer me up no end."

There was movement to her right and as she turned her head, a figure moved towards her into the light that was streaming in from outside.

Marguerite slowly crossed her arms and her features took on a look of resignation as she greeted her captor. "Tribune, how perfectly dreadful to see you again."

END CHAPTER 5


	6. Chapter 6

A/N - Okay, I'm so, so sorry for the length of time between updates on this story but unfortunately a healthy dose of writer's block and a serious amount of things going on in R/L just conspired against me. I DO plan on finishing this story but I can't guarantee how quick I'll get the chapter's out I'm afraid - but I WILL get them out eventually! My thanks to those of you that have written to me to encourage a continuation - I hope you like the next installment.

CHAPTER SIX

Malone tugged at his backpack trying to get it into a more comfortable position on his shoulders. They'd been walking for over an hour now but every time he looked up, the mountain they were headed towards just didn't seem to be getting any nearer.

He was about to comment on the fact when Challenger suddenly spoke, obviously having also noticed. "Are we going around in circles or is that mountain further away than I first thought?"

Jodrell looked back at him over her shoulder. "It is an illusion, Professor. A defence mechanism if you will, so that no one attempts to gain access."

"And a zillion mile high mountain with no visible signs of entry isn't enough of a deterrent already?" Malone commented in a sardonic aside to Veronica.

The blonde flashed him a grin then turned her attention back to Challenger who was speaking again.

"What causes this illusion?" the professor asked with interest. "Atmospheric pressure? The path of the sun?"

Jodrell slowed her pace so that he could walk alongside her and shot him a puzzled look. "Magic," she replied simply.

Challenger snorted. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, I do not believe in the existence of magic. Everything has an explanation, you just have to know how to go about looking for the answers."

The Queen smiled. "I am amazed that a highly educated man such as yourself could be so…blinkered," she gently chastised. "In my world, my people and I would not exist if there were no such thing as magic. It is all around us, all of the time."

Challenger smiled back at her and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but…" he began, only to be cut off by Roxton who could see that the Professor was about to launch into another of his lectures. The last thing he needed was Jodrell to be offended by Challenger's views and have her leave them, and Marguerite, without any assistance.

"Uh…just where is your world, Your Majesty?" the hunter asked, shooting the older man a warning look as he appeared to want to interrupt. Challenger gave the Roxton a slightly offended look in return but remained silent.

Hearing the hunter's question, Malone's ears pricked up and he increased his pace, wanting to hear everything she had to say so that he could record it in his journal.

"Our world is down…beyond the water," Jodrell replied.

"Like an underwater cavern of some kind?" Roxton asked, puzzled.

The Queen's brow creased slightly as if trying to find the right words that would explain her world. "Yes and no. My palace is what you call a cavern. It stands guard by the entrance to the water, protecting my people from outsiders and housing the precious stones that bring peace to the land." She paused and gestured to the foliage surrounding them. "In appearance, the rest of Elfrey is not unlike your world. It is filled with many rich colours and my people live in peaceful co-existence with everything around."

"Do you think we could see it?" Malone asked eagerly. At Roxton's frown, he hastily added, "I mean, after we find Marguerite…naturally."

Jodrell looked regretful. "I'm sorry but if you enter Elfrey, you will not be allowed to return. Mortals cannot withstand the journey back to their own world. You would die."

The disappointment was evident on the young reporter's face but he nodded his acceptance of what she was saying. "Before you go back though, maybe you could tell me more in detail?" he then suggested hopefully. "I really would like the opportunity to write everything down, even if I can't actually see it." His reply was a slight dip of Jodrell's head and a small smile. Happy with the prospect of an interview, Malone slowed up and fell back in step with Veronica.

"My Queen," came Alban's soft voice in her ear. "Do you think that is wise? They are humans and you know how headstrong that race can be. They might try to find Elfrey in spite of your warning."

Jodrell turned to her subject and her smile widened. Dear, sweet Alban. He could be such a worrier. Looking back at the rest of the travellers, she took ahold of Alban's arm and urged him to pick up his pace a little. When they were a sufficient distance away from the rest of the group not to be overheard, she said, "Do not concern yourself with them, Alban. I do not think they will attempt to find us. They are only interested in finding their friend."

"Yes, but what happens after that?" he insisted with a frown. "When they no longer have the worry of locating Marguerite, they will turn their attention to us, it is inevitable. The inquisitiveness of these mortals has long been their downfall."

Jodrell sighed. "You are right, Alban, and when I speak to that young man, I shall make certain that I do not tell him anything of substance. Does that make you easier?"

Turning his head, Alban caught sight of her troubled features and swallowed hard, feeling his anger slip away. "Yes, Your Majesty, it does indeed make me easier. I thank you for your patience and apologise for my inappropriate behaviour. I should never have spoken to you in such a way."

The Queen gazed at his contrite, downcast face and sighed heavily again. "Oh, Alban, you know you do not need to ask my forgiveness. We are not in Elfrey now and as far as I'm concerned, protocol need not be observed…especially where you and I are concerned." She reached out and tentatively took his hand in hers then smiled. "Are we in agreement?"

The sprite looked back at her in amazement then down at their joined hands before returning his gaze to her eyes once more. Slowly, a soft smile tugged at his lips and he squeezed her hand lightly before nodding his head curtly. "We are in agreement."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tribune let out a snort of laughter at Marguerite's greeting and shook his head. "Your wit always was the most attractive thing about you," he commented, mockingly.

"What a shame I can't return the compliment," she retorted sarcastically.

"You see?" he pointed out with another chuckle. "That brain of yours was the main reason I decided not to eat you the first time we met. Would have been a terrible waste."

"Not to mention mess," she muttered disgustedly.

Tribune smiled, then turned away from her to look out of the cave's exit as if deciding what to say next. Seeing her chance, Marguerite swiftly unfolded her arms and cracked the whip she'd taken from her guard towards the seemingly oblivious reptile.

Tribune turned almost immediately and grabbed the vicious strap before it made proper contact. He let out a loud hiss then yanked the whip towards him, dragging the heiress, who was determinedly holding onto the other end, along with it. He pulled the lash from her hand and dropped it on the ground, then grabbed her wrists and shoved her hands behind her back forcing her flush against his body. "Now, is that really the way to treat an old friend?" he asked mockingly, his face scant inches away from her own.

"Most of my 'old friends' don't want to eat me," she replied dryly, refusing to be intimidated.

"Hmm, except Lord Roxton of course," he remarked lightly, relinquishing his grip and stepping back.

Marguerite felt her face grow hot at his astuteness, but remained silent.

"Where is he, by the way?" the reptile continued, looking around as though he expected to see the hunter emerge from the shadows at any moment. When she, again, didn't reply, Tribune looked back at her sharply and then let out a frustrated hiss. "Oh, don't tell me; you've got yourself captured and he's going to be along with the rest of your little friends and try and rescue you, is he?" He gave a snort of derision. "He'll fail you know. No-one gets out of here. There's no escape."

"Well, we'll just have to see about that, won't we?" she challenged, her temper flaring at his arrogance.

"Marguerite, trust me, it's useless," he replied with a shake of his head.

"Trust you!" she repeated on a short laugh. "After your track record, just tell me why the hell I should do that?"

"Because I've been here six months and I haven't found a way out yet!" the reptile snapped.

Marguerite looked at him wide-eyed. "What?! You mean you're not in charge of this place?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"No, I'm a prisoner _too_," he confirmed angrily. "Just as you are."

END CHAPTER SIX


End file.
